


The road to freedom

by Serrenedy



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, working together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-05-19 10:22:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19355059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serrenedy/pseuds/Serrenedy
Summary: My own odd way of connecting the movie, cartoon, and now musical. Movie verse with cartoon/musical shoutouts. We saw him at his job and we saw him desperate.....what about if we gave him a chance. And *why* is he the 'Ghost with the Most' is that a self proclaimed title, or something much more sinister? She'd forgotten a ghost had time.





	1. Look down LOOK DOWN she's standing in her grave!

This was a terrible idea. Actually, that was an understatement. In a world of terrible ideas this was the worst possible idea that had ever even been conceived. It was BAD, beyond bad. It was HORRIFICALLY bad. In fact, it wasn’t possibly the worst idea it was _DEFFINETLY_ the world had ever known…but it was the only way she could think of to help with the nightmares.

* * *

 

_**LAST NIGHT** _

 

Lydia ran through the doors, finally home from school but the house was…wrong. It took an embarrassingly long time to realize that Delia's statues were what was missing. It should have been a good thing, the eyesores were gone…there was something unsettling in the air. Speaking of Delia, she was right there, grinning brightly about something.  
         “Lydia!!!” the goth girl flinched automatically as the redhead wrapped her up in a giant hug. “I have made a BREAKTHROUGH” now the redhead was jumping while hugging her. Lydia took a deep breath. This was fine….it was fine. She grit her teeth as she let the breath out any minute now Delia would manage to exhaust herself. It always happened. The woman was a damn energizer bunny and after awhile she would slump over to recharge. “I'm having a SHOWING! You got back just in time, living room LIVING ROOM” it was a strange sort of dread that filled her as they went to the living room. All of Delia's old sculptures were on display here, and a large group of people were in the room looking at them. The quiet whispering was loud as a majority of people hovered around the piece in the middle. When someone moved and she caught a glimpse of it...Lydia forcefully threw away a seemingly endless mass of people to get to the center of the exhibit. It took hours and yet no time at all to see them. Adam and Barbara; wasted away to nothing. The swarm of people formed a defending cacophony of ohhs and ahhs as Lydia watched in transfixed horror as her best friends and godparents were reduced to d….no….no….there was a way, there had to be a WAY  
           “BEETLEJUICE” she screamed it just once and he was there, complete with ceremony and garish red dress.  
         “My deal first this time” the nasty snarl came but before the ceremony could even start…they were gone. They couldn't be…he could fix it…he could do…any

 

* * *

 

 

She woke up then, screaming for help and choking on her tears. Adam and Barbara were there in seconds so that she could see them. Adam drifted a heavy blanket onto the shaking girl while Barbra gave her hot chocolate. They'd been getting worse. In the six months since the almost wedding Lydia had a nightmare once a night at least. They'd started with the wedding, without it being stopped and a grinning, leering, corpse for a husband. He tried to kill her in those dreams. Kissing her with a mouthful of poisonous snakes, dragging her to hell with him when the sandworm attacked, the smoke he'd lighted choking her. The works. Lately however, the dreams had changed in nature. _The Maitlands_. Dreams of them being destroyed or of him coming to kill them as payment for an unfulfilled deal. There was even a particularly cruel one where he killed her entire family and forced her to go through with the wedding itself as payment for dealing with her ‘ _problems_ '. Suffice to say, she'd had a long time to get nice and panicked.  
Though she didn't much mind it, she had to sleep in the attic now. When she started screaming his name in her nightmares it needed ghostly intervention to make sure that she didn't accidentally summon him. Adam and Barbara were of course, happy to have her around. But a bit of that happiness dimmed when they had to use their powers to tape her mouth shut, or chain her to the bed so she wouldn't hurt herself.

She drank a lot more coffee now, a lot more caffeine in general. If she could even go to sleep after a nightmare there was always another waiting in the wings. And so she finished her homework when she got in from school and watched late night tv. When she drifted off it was only for an hour before she was inevitably a shaking wreck once more. And so Delia brought caffeinated hot chocolate that Barbra made her and Charles looked the other way while she used whiskey as a sleep aid and Adam was working on making himself corporal enough that he could give her hugs. It wasn't working. None of it worked, which is why Lydia was in the attic with the Maitlands while Delia and her, far to nervous to be in the house during this bad idea, father were on a vacation to the Bahamas where hopefully he couldn't hurt them.

  
          “Beetlejuice” the air in the attic shifted as three people said the feared name at once. “Beetlejuice” Adam rested his moderately corporal hand atop the shaking hand of the still living girl. He caught Barbara’s eye and the two nodded. Lydia's life was the problem here, in that- between the stress and caffeine she soon could _lose_ it. Lydia spoke alone, the married couple each able to say the name once and banish him should they need to. “ **Beetlejuice** ” lightning struck, but it had nothing to do with the spike of anxiety in the room.

 


	2. And the waiting, the waiting...THE WAITING!!!

One poltergeist, a Mr. Betelgeuse was not having the best of luck. For one, being a poltergeist meant he was dead. OH how the living would love to believe there was nothing worse than death. It was a stupid notion to think that death meant all your problems were over. In fact, the dead had EVEN MORE ISSUES than the living. The worst part of living was undoubtedly, undoubtedly waiting. They were constantly waiting for one thing or another, waiting to start school, waiting for school to end, waiting to meet ‘the one' waiting for a proposal, waiting for the right time to break up, waiting for a birth, hell! Waiting in LINE FOR A FUCKING RIDE. Waiting was a BITCH and the whole race of the living was just waiting to die like that would make anything better. But no, the dead were DEAD. There was no dying of boredom, there was no ‘while I'm still young' you wouldn't change at all ever. Well…you'd change but you wouldn't age. There was no reason to change unless you wanted too, and even then, the changes were all cosmetic. Make your hair as long as you wanted it, with a snap have the face of your dreams, if you had the power for that kind of transformation. There was no point to life and there was REALLY no point to death. Betelgeuse had done it all at one point or another…he figures at least. A problem with existing for such a long time meant that you were plagued with a perpetual case of bad hips and worse joints and horrific memory issues.

Luckily, you weren’t you know alive. Pain was just a subconscious response half the time. You said ‘ow' but it wouldn't bruise and the blooming memory of pain would be forgotten as soon as you stopped thinking about it. After 200 years or so his mind wandered and his memory got foggy simply because it was a LOT of information so the living thought they had issues. What about the poor DEAD GUY! The living went 3 days without eating and they were blessedly dead. The dead were already DEAD. They just got hungrier and hungrier until they learned to ignore it or they changed the outside to match. No sleep? A living person would collapse after a week. The dead just doomed to become more and more exhausted, shuffling zombies. Especially the ones that worked. While the dead didn't need to work because they didn't need food or sleep, most weren’t powerful enough to dethatch the situations from actual existence...non existence in this case. Most weren't the ghost with the most. Betelgeuse was old for a ghost…old even for a poltergeist. The truth of the matter was the two creatures were similar though not the same. Ghosts, when they died suddenly or violently, lasted for a hundred years or so, passive in their abilities and needing to use the utmost effort to be able to haunt. Ghosts often went to the Neitherworld once they were done haunting and, well, faded out. They came to terms with their death and simply ceased to be. Where they went was unknown to even Juno's higher ups. It was allegedly good. The Neitherworld was inhabited by ghosts that had not come to terms of their deaths or were too afraid to fade, though they must at some point.

If they refused for too long…they changed. Often in appearance and sometimes in personality as well. They changed into things that were no longer ghosts; vampires, werewolves, true corpses of skeletons, creatures only called monsters. There was nothing left of the people they once were. After all, the Neitherworld was a stagnant place where one pretended at a life they no longer had. The oldest non suicide case of ghost was currently 500. Poltergeist on the other hand…well, they were not necessarily the result of sudden death. They were not necessarily those with unfinished business. Poltergeist were souls consumed by extreme emotion, often anger. The ectoplasm of the spirit was made of the raw emotions themselves making poltergeist particularly emotional. This was problematic due to the fact that raw emotion was the best way to access your power. Poltergeist were often stuck for long periods of time gathering more emotional energy, remembering what it was that made them angry or sad or whatever had given them power in the first place. Then they could affect the physical world. They didn't often go to the Neitherworld as it was stagnant and a waste of their precious emotional ectoplasm. Poltergeist were known to stay at most 300 years before they managed to burn themselves out and vanish from existence.

Betelgeuse was so, **_SO_ **different. He was a poltergeist. He had far to much power to be classified as a ghost, even as a malevolent spirit. He was also a suicide. It was easy to place him. He went with Juno, she had a sternness about her that would drive him crazy and he'd waste all of his power and energy on her. She'd keep him from gaining more emotional energy by sticking him in the most boring position she could and he'd be gone in forty years, a hundred at the most. After two hundred he broke away from her. It was supposed to be impossible. If you died by suicide you were stuck as a civil servant until you passed on. It was a particularly gruesome punishment as civil service workers lived a life of such morose tedium they may as well have been dead. But not Betelgeuse. He'd managed to gather enough emotional energy that he was able to break out of the office. He was…understandably angry and so he'd started reeking havoc on both worlds until they could find and trap him. The dead really did have it WAY worse. In solidarity confinement a breather would lose their mind in only a few hours and that was with being fed and maybe gaining some conversation from a guard every so often. A poltergeist? A powerful poltergeist? He'd been trapped inside various coffins for over 300 years. And he was pissed. His sanity had snapped a long while ago, probably sometime in the first year of his capture. Solitary confinement was supposed to be it. No one came back from that, especially not a poltergeist. But he had. After 20 years he'd tricked someone into letting him out. And within two months he was back in the box, this time for 50 years before he escaped. One month. The next time he was out for a few hours before they got him. That was how it worked, a game almost, one Juno was tired of playing. _Catch the impossible poltergeist_. As soon as she'd seen him after the Sandworm debacle he'd gone right back in his box kicking and screaming.


	3. You wonder which is worse, the Symptom or the Cure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.....the musical has specific it has to be three times in a row wording. The movie tends to do this save that one scene with Lydia...but when she says his name again the next day it doesn't automatically bring him out even though it's confirmed that she'd said his name twice before. The cartoon plays FAST AND LOOSE with this rule. There was an epp she said his name like 5 times in a row before he stops her. So here's the concrete rules for this fic. You have to say his name 3 times without a full sentence in between otherwise it resets. I think that's fair.

The only one that hated the 'game' more than Juno, was the poltergeist in question. Betelgeuse hated more than anything being trapped in his box. He had a small sweet taste of freedom…and then it was ripped away. He was chained and bound and trapped in the darkness again, going more and more mad. Madness had given way to a new soft of sanity and torn back down far too many kinds to count. It was the waiting that did it. Waiting for something that may never come, something he needed as much as breathers needed beating hearts. Or…he had hated the waiting more than anything. It was quickly being replaced by one Lydia Deetz. For the past six months, or perhaps eternity, or maybe six minutes…you try living in eternal solitary confinement and keeping track of time. For the past however long since he'd almost, almost gotten the freedom he craved Lydia had been amusing herself by toying with him. She'd say his name and ring the bell so to speak, shaking him to his core at the thought of a summon, of getting OUT. Then she'd stop, only to pull the EXACT SAME STUNT an little while later. It was a special kind of hell. Wanting, needing freedom like it was a full buffet and you were starving and then the BITCH with the key to said buffet waving it in front of you just to watch the hope drain from your eyes as it was taken away. If he ever saw her again, he'd rip her apart. He had more than enough stored anger right now.  
       

        “Beetlejuice” the bitch was at it again. This time it felt particularly strong. Oh of COURSE four eyes and Babs were in on it. Bet it made them feel pretty damn powerful that he wasn't ever getting out again. “Beetlejuice” He shook. That felt delicious. A sliver into the real world, the physical world. His power could effect them. It would take an awful LOT of power and it wouldn't do much but STILL. Maybe he could shatter one of Medusa's statues. She'd be miserable and it would make them miserable. It wasn't much but he had to get his jollies someway. There was a long pause as he popped open the physical lid of his prison to spread his essence and try to find something to destroy. Just when he settled on something … “Beetlejuice” 

 

For a moment, it seemed like it hadn't worked. The lightning struck but there was no fanfare, no hideous smell as he coalesced, no fairground monstrosity, nothing. Was he gone? Gone, gone? Would the nightmares stay just that due to the fact that the only creature that could make them happen was taken out by the sandworm. Based on what she had said it wasn't likely…still…

 

* * *

 

        “So whatda want” the three jumped and Adam vanished. It had been decided beforehand that he'd throw his voice to say the name if the man did anything to Barbara. She stood behind Lydia, presenting a united front for the teen. Betelgeuse was lounging in Adam's chair, glaring at the two women in front of him. There was another pregnant silence, the air so thick with tension it almost blinded the individuals inside. “I'm waitin here!” His craggy voice broke the silence like a gunshot on porcelain and both women flinched. Barbara looked at Lydia and the goth took two heavy steps forward.  
       

        “I…I'm sorry.” Lydia had gone over this conversation several times with her ghost parents and even with her real parents. It was the reason for the contingency plans. Betelgeuse was still looking at Lydia with all the intensity of ocean storms. She ducked her head, not being able to look at him while he stared at her. Images from her nightmares filled her mind. “I…You…You saved them….and….I didn’t….I promised you freedom if you saved them and—”  
       

        “Lydia” his voice is sharp and her eyes flicker back up to his own. Bad idea. Between his sharp voice and the look in his eyes her mouth shuts as if glued. She couldn't keep looking at him, glancing back down in terror. She didn't see the sleazy smile that spread over his features. “Babes I'm not mad.” Not anymore at least. “How could I be? I've got the cutest lil soon ta be wife around”  
       

         “No” Betelgeuse was powerful. As the smile slowly sank from his face every bulb in the room blew at once. The house shook and there was a disturbing crashing sound like a wall had been destroyed. Speaking of walls, the ones in the attic were starting to sport a familiar striped pattern as he visibly flickered with unrestrained rage.  
       

         “The fuck did you just say?” Barbara’s mouth opened, ready to send him away. Lydia held up a hand even as the stripped wallpaper started bleeding.

         “I said…No. I can’t marry you.” He snarled. Lydia gasped as the floor turned into tar and hands climbed up from it to drag her down.

        “Beetle—” Barbara was banished before she could. say it. Adam's breath came in on the wind and a typhoon came to steal his voice away. Betelgeuse chose that moment to rise from the chair, hair swirling around him and eyes screaming murder as he slowly made his way over to Lydia. The snake had been a taste, the dinner party from HELL had been a TASTE. He was now angry.  
       

        “I STILL WANNA HELP YOU!” all at once, everything stopped. Lydia was stuck with only her head above the tar, just barely holding her nose and mouth out of the foul smelling stuff. The winds died and Adam fell to the ground, pulled back from wherever he'd been hiding.  
     

        “LYDIA! STAY AWAY FROM HER!!!” The man tried to move but it was as if the poltergeist had increased the gravity on him to a ridiculous extent. If he'd been alive he wouldn't be for very long. No doubt every bone would have broken and each organ popped.  
       

        “what did you say?” Betelgeuse’s voice was soft as he took careful steps towards the goth girl. Where before he'd unnerved her it was clear that she was scared out of her mind. She was even crying and whimpering. Adam was trying to crawl his way into the tar so that he could comfort her.

        “You…you held up…I mean you…helped me and I…I just…I cant marry you is there…” she couldn't get the words out. Six months of nightmares plus his rage had made her downright dizzy from fear. The poltergeist stared at her for a long moment…

 

then he snapped his fingers.


	4. Sometimes I'm right, sometimes I'm wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's something fun to note. I almost accidentally deleted this chapter looking up an appropriate title because I'm an idiot and also I've taken it upon myself to do something I thought would be fun with the chapter titles that no one will notice.

Lydia hadn't been able to speak for a bit. She was crying and traumatized from the full force of his anger. He'd put the house back together and recalled Barbara from wherever he'd sent her. Judging by the lack of the breath she no longer needed and the sand, he'd sent her to Saturn. Betelgeuse had also demonstrated that he was surprisingly patient as he waited in Adam's chair for Lydia to be alright enough to speak. He wasn't going to apologize, that much was clear. And if Adam or Barbara so much as said anything that started with ‘B' he zipped their lips, but he seemed contented with the most mundane of things, sitting in a dusty armchair, sunbathing at the break of dawn, idly watching the panic attack his powers had caused. Ordinary things.

 

* * *

  
After an hour or two, Lydia was ready to speak again. This time Betelgeuse kept his anger in check…mostly. His eyes didn't leave her for an instant. She didn't look at him but that hardly mattered. She could feel his glare.

  
        “I can't marry you.” She started. Adam gripped her shoulder. No one had expecting Betelgeuse to have gotten even stronger. “I'm just a kid. I'm 15. Maybe you didn't know that?” he scoffed. 

        “Since when ain't 15 marryin age? Hell, I gave your pops a dowry.” He was grumbling now. But he wasn't stupid. They wouldn't have called him here just to fuck with him….and if they had he'd make them **pay.** Lydia blinked at him a few times at the statement. 

        “Did…you…weren’t just messing around were you?” Adam can't quite keep the surprise from his tone. 

        “I probably was, I fuck wit a lot of people.” While Betelgeuse hated waiting, he was better off waiting out here, at least there were other people here. “Messin ‘bought what” 

        “Did you actually live through the Black Plague?” Adam asked. He'd already ruined his chance when he checked to make sure Lydia was alright. 

        “Duh” Betelgeuse got the hint then as Adam rested a cool hand against Lydia's shoulder. His furious gaze shifted from the terrified mortal to Barbara whom, to her credit, didn't flinch. She shook out her dark curls and glared right back at him. _Damn_ if that woman had been _alive._ “Don't remember much of the ol’ fleshbag days but that one sticks out…probably fer braggin rights” he snorted. “I do remember that back in my day a morsel like that would be snatched up no problem. So what's yer issue?” 

        “I'm still in school” Lydia tried this time. He didn't look to impressed. “and I'll still free you. Once a month…at least…I'll call your name and let you out for a few hours.” He snorted furiously. “AND” she was panicked now. “and in.. in ten years I'll decide if I marry you for real but even if I don't I'll set you free at least once a month for the rest of my life. Just please stop sending the nightmares.” AHHH, that was the crux of all this. Her own guilt tricking her into thinking he had that kinda juice from where he'd been sent. “You don't even have to stop my nightmares, my dad can't take it. Please. I just want him to be alright. And I'll let you out at least once a month for at least 3 hours.” The attic was silent. Adam was holding Lydia as tightly as he could and Barbara held Betelgeuse’s glare with one of her own. Surprisingly, the poltergeist looked away first. He grumbled something as he thought to himself, then turned back to Lydia. 

        “Ya keep sayin’ ‘at least'. What's a guy gotta do to get a longer leash around here? And how do I trus’ ya? Outta this room I'm the only one that ain't **filch** on a deal.” 

        “You get more time with good behavior.” Lydia answered. That rule she'd already been planning on. She didn't know much about him save the terror he'd wrought before. He couldn't be horrifying all the time right? He had to have hobbies that didn't include terror and malice. 

        “Fifteen” Lydia blinked, unsure if he was talking about her age or…. “Fifteen years with limited freedom, then you marry me and get me **OUT.** Yer already fifteen. That's litterally yer whole life. I ain't in too bad a rush, ain't exactly got places ta be but I Want OUT and not jus out when yer bored n I'm on a leash got it!?” she flinched slightly. 

        “And the nightmares?” at that he snarled. He wasn’t sending them so he couldn't actively stop them. They were a product of the various minds in the house.   
       

        "You” he turned to the still silent Barbara, “gotta let me out every night. I ain't sendin them so I gotta go repurpose em.” 

        “You mean mess with their minds!?” Adam was horrified and the ghoul turned around to give him the nastiest sneer he could muster. 

        “Well unless you got another idea?” the poltergeist leered. “Actually…” he looked the other way. “If I do my job they might go away.” At that the room got quiet, three pairs of eyes fixed on the poltergeist.  
“

        That makes sense” Lydia sounded like she wanted to cry. “all of Dad's bad memories are…here” 

        “NO” just like that Barbara ruined her chance, flashing to Lydia's side in order to hug her. “Absolutely not! I won't let him take you away.” She looked close to tears. “Adam?” 

        “Barbara we…we have to think of….of what's best for Lydia” even as he choked the words out it was like he was dying all over again, drowning this time in his feelings instead of the river. Betelgeuse shrugged, having given his two cents the emotional breakdown happening in front of him didn't phase him in the least. He didn't care where she put the model as long as…. 

        “HEY WAIT A SECOND!” The hissing seemed to come from everywhere as the walls restriped themselves and started to write like snakes. “When you leave you'd just leave the model here! And me with the smucks called the Maitlands.” Lydia flinched at his sudden anger. She wasn't scared this time, just surprised, but she calmed quickly. After all, she'd read the handbook cover to cover. 

        “Beetlejuice” He snarled at the use of his name and tether. “I Lydia Deetz, do hereby grant you permission of set parameters that have been pre-prepared but after a period of six years may be renegotiated, reign to haunt as you see fit…a mirror.” As she spoke she pulled it out. A simple compact, nothing more or less…but it would be able to stay on her person. She opened the mirror and let him look at the shiny glass. He sneered at it and snorted out a bark of laughter. 

  
        "3 days!” it had to be a multiple of 3 for the bureaucrats. No one knew quite why they were so fond of the number, but they were and it made Betelgeuse’s death one of never-ending torment. 

        “Nine months! That gives us both time to think it over and…and a trial period to see if it works and what about it doesn't work.” She was either clever or lucky. He scoffed even as he felt the words bind him. Nine was three threes, disgustingly powerful. 

        “Fine then toots.” He pretended he actually had a choice against that kind of numerology. Even _he_ was fucked against it. “In nine months we'll birth out a contract of legal haunting. Till then, you aint leavin” Lydia flinched slightly at the anger in his voice, but she also didn't want to leave the Maitlands. They were more parents then her own parents at times. 

        “I cant in good conscious let you inside my dad's head. He has massive anxiety, it's why we moved out here in the first place.” Lydia pointed out. “And nine more months of your nightmares might kill him. Why can't you just stop sending them?” Betelgeuse didn't want to admit he wasn't sending them, after all, that was why she was making a deal. So in answer, he just snorted up something and spat it out. 

        “Those are my options fer ya. Dream access or let Chuck croak while ya wait ta get out.” He leaned back in the chair as it started floating, completely unbothered. After all, it was no real skin off his nose if the guy died. He'd be back where he was before, eternal waiting. While them letting him take the nightmares out the old fashioned way so he could get his hands on a _wife_ was in fact the _vastly_ preferable option…he was angry enough that he could be soothed by the fact that his _would be fiancée_ might sob herself into an early grave at the thought of her father's death being ‘her fault'. If he couldn't get out, piping hot revenge was a decent meal while he bade his time. Adam and Barbara seemed to catch his train of thought, looking at each other worriedly. 

        “Hey, say,” Betelgeuse flinched at how _wholesome_ the tone coming from Adam was. “it seems like dream walking could be something to teach us. And then I could go with you. He's not scared of me” 

        “Bunny slippers ain't scared of you.” The Ghost with the Most grumbled from his slowly rotating floating chair. “Dream Scaring is advanced shit.” Adam deflated a bit. “But…” the poltergeist continued. “dream lurking is a piece a cake. You're nowhere near strong enough to make a breather see you bub, but you can give the little ladies repots that say I ain't doin nothuin.” He did not want captain killjoy _borringing_ up his stomping grounds, but he was also a lot smarter than most others gave him credit for. Only one not to underestimate him, was the biggest thorn in his side since before he could remember. But these dummies thought a simple little Sandworm would take him out. Nah. They could be tricked, trapped, played with, manipulated. He'd already started on Lyds. Let her think he was reasonable, a whole five extra years! He could practically smell the gears turning in her head. He could wait. He could play nice. By the time any of them realized what he was capable of, it would be **_far too late_**. 


	5. All that we see all that we've seen is but a DREAM withing a DREAM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....confession time. The first four chapters were all written at once in a fit of creative passion which is why they all went up so fast. My motivation is taking a long walk off a short peir so updates will slow. But I'm hoping while the quantity goes down the quality remains.

Dream lurking wasn't as ‘piece of cake' for Adam as it was for the poltergeist. However, a major cause of that may have been the fact that there was a lack of viable practice options. After all, Barbara didn't sleep, they were trying to practice so that they could _try_ it on Charles, and Lydia woke up screaming after a period of twenty minutes. Delia was their only willing subject and she was a lucid dreamer. Lucid dreamers were the worst. If they didn't want you there, even for a moment, you'd be violently expelled. Delia, weather she knew it or not, hade made it near impossible to practice. Even now, Betel hovered there, watching Delia craft her dreamscape craft room. He'd nudged his presence into the smallest crack of her mind and lurked from his crevice.

 

Delia was unaware. Humming blissfully as she tossed clay into the air like it was a pizza for her room of entranced guests. They all watched as the artist let the clay fall unto the table and rather than going * **splat** * it created a beautiful sculpture. And it was, unobjectively lovely. If only she could create the things she actually dreamed of. Maybe her sense of inadequacy was connected too… Betelgeuse shook his head. He wasn't about to psychoanalyze his target's stepmom. It was just something he was used to doing to know how best to scare the life out of a breather. He already had a list just for Delia.

 

The air changed imperceptibly and he smirked rolling his shoulders to see how quickly Maitland would _**fuck it up**_. The man's current record was…thirty seconds before Delia sent him away. Sure enough Adam was suddenly in the crowd of people, clapping wildly at Delia's creation. Delia bowed and came back up looking frantic, then angry.

 

        “YOU ARE NOT GOING TO STEAL MY ART SECRETS RICHARD!” Her hair actually turned into snakes. It was brilliant. Adam was swiftly banished, barely a flicker. Betelgeuse snickered as he slipped out of the now chaotic mind.

 

        “Well?” Barbara asked, holding close her slightly faded husband. If Betel cared enough he'd warn them about ectoplasmic energy. A shame, Adam was kinda hot. Boring as all get out but _Sexy_ nonetheless. It was a trick old hats used to hurry up and get to the Neitherworld. Waste up their energy on stupid shit and kill their haunt time. It never worked. Well, it did but, by the time you got to the Netherworld you were a lot less **you** than you had been before. And wouldn't it be fun to watch little miss sandworm freak out at Sexy melting to bits or unable to remember her. Betel made a mental note to take at least 20 years here just to see the start of the deterioration. If he was REALLY lucky he'd get first dibs on rewriting Adam's memory.  
       

        “I… I couldn't do it she…” he huffed. “she kicked me out again. But how was that?” Did I make it to a minute yet? Barbara winced at the question. “that bad?”

       “ _NO_! Noooo just um…well, **yes**. I'm sorry dear. You only lasted fifteen seconds that time.” While the Maitlands were devastated by the lack of progress the poltergeist hadn’t been this happy centuries. He now had three places that he was allowed to be. Granted, three places that were all duller then **deadville** , but THREE of them. The model, the attic, and the hand mirror. The hand mirror was most burring. Although Lyds kept her word and kept it on her at all times, she kept it closed tight and inside of her purse so he couldn’t try to worm his way out while she was at school. She also hadn't let him fully out to affect the real world but that was alright. It hadn't been a full month yet in the first place. While he could be… inpatient for lack of a better word, last time all he'd gotten for it was eaten by a sandworm. Nah, he'd wait this time…watch a little. This was the best chance he'd ever had and he was looking forward to taking it as far as he could go. But that required a bit more… finesse than he was strictly comfortable using. Eh, he hadn't gotten this far in death without realizing that you needed to change up the con from time to time. Working in a rut worked for the most part but you were gonna get real fucked if you couldn't go _around_ the boulder.

        “Maybe _you_ should try Barb” oh no, NOPE stop that train where it stood! If Barb started to wear herself out alongside Adam they'd both go to the Neitherworld together. Hell, they might even be able to cling to their senses of self with Sassy reminding Sexy. NOPE! 

        “Or, and here's a shocker YOU CAN **JUST LET ME DO IT!** Commeon!” The two of them gave him flat looks. “What would I get from fucking up eh? You don want me to scare the breathers FINE! But I would like ta remind ya sad sacks that I'm a _professional_. **I DO MY JOB”**

        “Try it on me” The three non living entities in the room turned en masse to the odd girl out. Lydia was in Adam's armchair, curled up like an oversized cat. She'd already woken up screaming twice tonight, though it didn't wake her stepmother as Delia Deetz's talents included sleeping through a hurricane. “You were just lurking inside my head before.” The teenager pointed out with a thoughtful slurp of expresso laced hot chocolate. “If you can get rid of my nightmares, you can get rid of dad-“ before she could finish the sentence she slumped over, completely asleep. She managed to last a full ten minutes. The silent argument the ghosts were having about taking her up on her offer, was swiftly forgotten as the goth started fighting something in the sleep. "Bet…no…NO! BEETLEJUICE!” And she was convulsing now. Adam managed to levitate her so that she wouldn’t hurt herself on the chair. Barbara wasn't quite at levitating the _living_ yet so she saved Lydia's cup. With no one to stop him, the poltergeist took her up on her offer.

 

Snakes. That was the first impression. Millions of snakes, all with his face on them. Aww, he should be flattered. Not even a full month of knowing each other and she couldn't stop dreaming about him. The snakes were all coming out of Chuck's chest. Must have ripped him open from the inside and caused the initial scream. They were wrapping around her, dragging her down as they licked their lips and bit into her with poison. Beautiful. _INSPIRED_. If she fucked him over again it was a definite idea. He could do _better_ sure, but starting with self obsessed psychological trauma was always fun. Nightmares coming to life and unable to wake up. It was a **hoot**. With a snort he addressed her.

 

        “Not bad toots. Not. To. SHABBY. Ya have a real future in bio-exorcism in this life…well, when ya CROAK!” with a sharp laugh and a snap of his fingers the snakes flopped over, lifeless and rubber.

        “Beetlejuice?” she asked, pulling off what once were fangs but now were suction cups. She was still shaking. So…it wasn't the snakes then.

        “AH! Careful babes. Ya talk in yer sleep. One more time and I'm outta here.” Lydia nodded. She was sobbing in her dream, eyes red and teary and her mascara was running. **Dames**. Even horrified in night terrors, their face had to be on.

        “What about my father?” Lydia croaked, hugging herself tightly. At the question Betelgeuse raised an eyebrow at her.

        “What about him” with another snap Charles started coughing. The older man brushed off... confetti? “Really Lyds I'd expect this kinda crap from a toddler some rubber snakes and streamers sent ya screamin? And here I thought you were a seasoned horror junkie. Or is all that black just ta look scary?”

        “Lydia one of these days those pranks yours are really going to kill me.” The scolding was said with a smile and a female voice came from somewhere.

        “Oh leave her alone. She didn't mean any harm dear.” This was officially boring. He couldn't fully control dreams. Well, he could but this was different. He'd nudged the dream. Popped in, took away things that didn't belong, and let her mind supply a new dream out of what was left. That was usually what he did. Only his nudges usually involved making things colder or darker and chasing them with sandworms and giant squids. Fun shit. Though that wasn't Delia's voice, it didn't warrant further investigation.

        “Oh Emily” was the last thing he heard before he booked it. While nightmares were some of the best cable he'd ever seen, good dreams were depressingly boring. He exited her mind to the parlor and…

 

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!” before he could get so much as a peep out an overly paranoid Babs sent him packing to the model. Oh…oh just for that he KNEW what he was gonna do to four eyes. When people changed it was usually nudges caused by perception of what they remembered. He had a trick for little miss _trigger happy_.


End file.
